


Good Gertrude

by Glyndwr



Category: Hamlet - Shakespeare, SHAKESPEARE William - Works
Genre: Gen, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 19:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glyndwr/pseuds/Glyndwr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For he is thine, of that there is no doubt! But his father?...We two brothers are longing to know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Gertrude

**Author's Note:**

> Contains: AU-ness. The occasional quote.

_Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son (v.i.299)_

For he is thine, of that there is no doubt!

But his father? We two brothers who loved you dear

Who love you still, even in death’s misbegotten claws,

Who will love you and you alone, Gertrude,

Are longing to know.

Gentle Gertrude, don’t lie—

It less lovely than thy form permits.

For if every word you speak be poison,

Then know that some will pass thine own sweet lips

And murder thee in thine incestuous sheets.

Grateful Gertrude,

We keep your secret

Like _dogs_ , who love you always, always, always

With ne’er a care: in home, in palace, in garden, in wood

In death’s _day, confined to fast in fires, (i.v.12)_

In life’s dream haunted by that _primal eldest curse upon’t_ (iii,iii,37)

But _whose_ , Gertrude?

This brother who weareth that poisoned crown?

This brother who weareth that maddened clown?

This devil who _stole you_? Or that devil who killed you?  
  
Ghastly Gertrude,

Your silence murders us!

Silence—like blades, like knives, like poisoned cups

Like hearts withering away beneath the assault of mad love

Answer Gertrude, lest we leave your fate to heaven

Need you rosemary? Pansies? Poppies? Hemlock?

Remember, wretched one, vile serpent, lovely succubus,

Or we lay them all on your grave

Remember, Gertrude, that the gentlest of these is rosemary

_And that’s for remembrance—_ remembrance of our love (iv.v.179)

Remembrance of your son who hath no father

Remembrance of all this woe you brought to us—

May its thorn lodge in your bosom

And pierce thine soul

So even heaven will know you for what you are

_A whore_ , unpacking your _heart with words_ alone.(ii,ii,586)

So sweet, so bittersweet, that you know not

What you are, _in the rank sweat of an enseamed bed_ (iii,iv,92)  
  
Oh, Grisly Gertrude, how we loathe you

How we long to see you take a sip

From that poisoned cup from which we have drunk

How we long to see you suffer the wrath of heaven

When Heaven sees the devil glittering in your eye

And how we long to know the father of your son

For we will take his life and set his head upon that pike

Next to yours, fairest demoness.  
  
Good Gertrude, know that we love you still

But set some watch over your son

For we love him not.

**Author's Note:**

> An old poem I wrote for English class; the assignment was to use several lines from the play in an original work.


End file.
